There goes the weekend!
by BBBA
Summary: With four kids, there are bound to be visits to the E.R. All parents know this, but that doesn"t make it any easier to deal with.
1. Chapter 1

Bob Duncan was not having a good day. Not by any stretch of the imagination. Here it was, a glorious Saturday afternoon, and he was under the kitchen sink trying to fix a slow, steady leak that was far beyond his ability to repair. Before leaving for work that morning, his wife had smugly handed him a slip of paper with a plumber's phone number on it; he was determined not to need that number.

He was vaguely aware of his four children somewhere in the house. The older two were old enough to keep an eye on the younger two, but he wasn't completely sure that they were responsible enough. PJ, the oldest, was most likely playing his guitar or watching tv somewhere, while daughter Teddy could usually be trusted to be taking charge of her sister, two-year old Charlie. The only real wild card was 11 year-old Gabe, who was old enough to be trusted for short periods of time, but mischevious enough to need an occasional status update.

At the thought of his youngest son, Bob frowned. He hadn't heard anything out of Gabe for more than an hour. That could never be good.

As if on cue, he heard shouts from the living room. From his position under the sink, he couldn't quite make out which kid it was, or what the shouts were about. If it was just an argument over some childhood territorial dispute, he really didn't want to drag himself out; but there was always the chance someone was hurt. With a sigh, he untangled his bulk from the tiny space and hauled himself to his feet.

"In the kitchen!" He shouted.

"Dad! Help!" It was PJ.

Bob hustled through the swinging door and saw his sons making their slow way to the couch from the open door. PJ was half-carrying, half-supporting his little brother, who seemed to be having a great deal of difficulty putting one foot in front of the other.

"What happened?"

"I hit him in the head with a baseball. Knocked him right out."

Bob took Gabe from PJ and deposited him gently on the couch. "Gabe? Can you hear me?"

"Yeah, I can hear you – you're yelling," Gabe said. He held both hands to his head and scowled. "He didn't knock me out, Dad. He knocked me _down_. I'm fine."

"He was out, Dad. Flat out, not moving, eyes rolled back in his head—"

"I was not!"

"How many fingers am I holding up, Gabe?" Bob wished his wife was home. She was a nurse; she was better equipped to deal with this sort of thing.

"Three. I'm okay."

"What's going on?_" _Teddy had joined them, Charlie in her arms.

"Gabe taking nap?" Charlie wondered.

"_Quiet!" _Bob bellowed. In the sudden silence, he looked around at four pairs of eyes that watched him—two worried, one curious, and one decidedly unfocused. "Now. Gabe. Where did the ball hit you?"

"Right here." Gabe touched a spot just above his right ear – and winced.

"Tell me the truth, do you think you were knocked out? Even for a second?"

"Well … maybe for a second. I … I'm not sure," Gabe admitted.

"Okay," Bob said. "Teddy, I need you to stay with Charlie while PJ and I take Gabe to the emergency room, okay?"

"Sure, Dad," Teddy said with a quick nod. "Do you want me to call Mom?"

"Yeah, that's a good idea." Bob was pleased at her quick thinking. His wife worked at the same hospital, and it wouldn't do to surprise her. "Just make sure you're careful about what you tell her. Don't make her worry more than she has to."

"Gotcha."

"Ready to go, Kiddo?" Bob asked Gabe. Gabe nodded and let his father help him stand. After only a few unsteady steps, however, his legs buckled and he would have collapsed if Bob hadn't caught him.

"Easy, Gabe; I've got you," Bob told him. "PJ, go start the bug truck. We're right behind you."

"I can walk," Gabe protested. "I'm not a baby."

"I know you're not. Humor me, okay? I'll probably have a hernia by the time we get to the hospital. We'll have side-by-side beds."


	2. Chapter 2

"Mom, it's Teddy," the voicemail message said. "Dad asked me to call you and tell you that he's bringing Gabe into the ER. PJ hit him in the head with a baseball."

Amy Duncan stared at her cell phone. She wished she had been able to take the call when it came in, but of course she couldn't take calls when she was with a patient. _PJ hit him in the head with a baseball_?That was it? No more information. Was he conscious? Where, exactly, had he been hit_? _ The message was nearly an hour old; had Bob reached the ER yet with their son, or were they stuck in traffic somewhere?

"Amy? Is everything okay?" One of the other nurses touched her arm, startling her.

"I don't know," Amy said. "One of my kids is hurt and I don't know how badly. I need to get down to Emergency. Can you cover for me?"

"Of course! Go—let me know as soon as you know anything."

Amy hurried to the elevator and checked her phone again. No more messages. She wasn't sure if that was good news or bad news.

The ER wasn't busy, and she quickly spotted her oldest child slumped dejectedly in the waiting room. He jumped up when he saw her.

"What happened?" she asked him, after a quick hug. He told her about helping Gabe practice his catching for baseball try-outs, and how Gabe had been distracted for just a moment—just as PJ launched his hardest throw. He told her about seeing his little brother crumple to the ground, about shouting his name over and over until Gabe's eyes had finally opened.

"I don't know how long he was out, " PJ said, in response to her gentle question. "But as soon as he woke up, we went in and got Dad. I know I shouldn't have let him move, but he wouldn't stay there in the yard."

"You did just fine, PJ," Amy told him. "Did he lose consciousness on the way here?"

"No. But he kept telling me he wanted to go to sleep. I didn't let him."

"Good job."

"They took him back right away. Dad's with him. Mom, did I—is he—how bad—"

"Shhh," Amy reached up and stroked her son's cheek. "You didn't do this on purpose. We all know you love Gabe and you'd never hurt him. Will you be all right out here alone for a little longer while I go see what's happening?"

He nodded.

It was easy for Amy to find her husband and son. She found them in a small, curtained-off cubicle with one of the ER doctors that she recognized. Gabe was perched on a hospital bed while Dr. Hiatt examined him and Bob paced uneasily behind them. Gabe's voice sounded clear but soft as he answered questions, while his father's rumbling baritone chimed in occasionally.

For a moment, Amy went weak with relief. Her son was able to sit up and talk to the doctor. That was far better than she had expected.

Gabe spotted her first. "Mom!" he cried.

"Hi, Sweetie," she said, squeezing his hand. "Let the doctor finish his job, okay?"

"Actually, I'm about done," Dr. Hiatt told them. "Mr. Duncan, Amy, I need to run a few more tests, but so far he looks pretty good. He's definitely got a concussion, but it looks like a fairly mild one. I'd like to order a CT scan just to be sure. Gabe, do you still feel like you want to throw up?"

"No, Sir."

"Well, that's a good sign. But I think I'm going to leave this dish with you just in case. And I'm going to leave you here with your Mom and Dad while I go order those tests. Sound good to you?"

"Yes, Sir."

As soon as the Duncans were alone, Amy gathered her son into her arms in a hug that he probably wouldn't have allowed if he weren't hurt and scared. As it was, he nestled in with his cheek against hers. He didn't even complain when Bob put his arms around both of them.

"Am I gonna have to stay here tonight?" Gabe asked, after a moment.

"I don't know," Amy told him honestly. "They don't usually keep concussions overnight any more but it depends on a lot of factors. We'll just have to wait and see. "

"I'm so glad you're here now," Bob whispered against her hair.


	3. Chapter 3

Teddy tried to be a good babysitter and big sister to Charlie that afternoon, but as afternoon wore into evening, she was more and more distracted. The longer her father and brothers were gone, the more worried she became. And no one was calling her to tell her what was going on. Why wasn't anyone calling?

"Let's watch the Gurgles again, okay?" she suggested wearily.

"Me is hungry." Charlie stated.

"You is? And what is you hungry for?"

"Fishsticks."

"Really?" Teddy grinned. "I guess it is getting close to supper time, isn't it? Okay, let's get you a nice snack to hold you until Mom and Dad get home."

She was halfway to the kitchen when the doorbell rang. "Hang on, Hungry Girl," she told her. "Teddy's got to get the door."

It was Mrs Dabney, their cranky neighbor. Teddy resisted the urge to groan.

"What can I do for you, Mrs. Dabney?" she asked instead.

"It's about Gabe," she began. For some reason, Gabe and Mrs. Dabney seemed to bring out the worst in each other. They had a strong dislike of each other that was demonstrated by her constant complaints about him and his constant intrusions into her yard and her life.

"Mrs. Dabney, he can't possibly have done anything to you today," Teddy said.

"I know, Teddy. Mr. Dabney told me he saw you father carrying Gabe out to the truck today," Mrs Dabney told her. "I was wondering—I mean, Mr. Dabney was wondering if Gabe was all right, or if your family needed anything."

Teddy stared.

"I'm not worried about him," Mrs. Dabney said hastily. "It's Mr. Dabney who's all upset. He said PJ shot out of here like a rocket, and then Bob rushed out with Gabe, and he's terribly worried."

"Well, you can tell Mr. Dabney that Gabe got hit in the head with a baseball, and I haven't heard anything from Dad, PJ or Mom since they took him to the hospital. I don't know—" Teddy broke off when her cell phone rang. Forgetting all about manners, she turned her back on her neighbor and grabbed the phone.

"Mom! What's going on? How is he? Oh…oh, that's good news. Is he—oh, okay. Yeah. All right, Mom. Thanks. "

She sank into the couch and closed her eyes, suddenly too weak to stand up any more. When she opened them, she was startled to see Mrs. Dabney standing over her.

"Is everything all right, Teddy?" she asked, her voice surprisingly gentle. "Is your brother going to be all right?"

"Mrs. Dabney! I forgot you were here!" she exclaimed. "I'm sorry. I just—"

"Teddy. What about Gabe?"

"They're bringing him home now. He's got a concussion, and he'll have to take it easy for a while, but he'll be okay. He—my mom says—I'm sorry, I'm just so relieved."

"Me, too! That is, I'm sure Mr. Dabney will be, too."

"Of course he will."

With a beaming smile that didn't fool Teddy for an instant, Mrs. Dabney excused herself and went home. Teddy pulled Charlie up on her lap and explained that Gabe was going to be home soon, and that they needed to be very careful with him. "He'll need lots of rest," she finished. Daddy and PJ are bringing him home and Mommy is going to pick up some pizza for the rest of us. Can you help me pick up some of your toys before they get here?"

The minutes crawled by until PJ pushed the door open and held it while his father carried a sleeping Gabe into the house and over to the couch. Teddy grabbed an afghan for him while Bob removed the boy's shoes and covered him up.

"Is it okay for him to sleep?" Teddy wondered. "I thought you weren't supposed to let people go to sleep with a concussion."

"Nah, that's just on tv," Bob reassured her. "Sleep is actually really good for him, as long as we wake him up every so often to check on him. I know it's a Saturday night, but do you think you could stick around at least for a while? I've got to make some phone calls, and I'd like to know that one you kids is sitting with him."

"Of course, Daddy. I already canceled my date for tonight."

"That's my girl." Bob kissed her forehead and bent to plant another kiss on his sleeping son's cheek before heading for the kitchen.

Teddy glanced up at PJ, who was sitting on the steps. "What about you, PJ? Do you have a date tonight?"

"Already cancelled it."

She sat beside him and draped her arm across his shoulders. "He's okay, PJ.," she told him.

"Yeah…NOW. But I could have killed him. If that ball had hit him on the temple, he'd be dead. The doctor said we were really lucky. What kind of monster throws a ball at his baby brother hard enough to kill him? What if I hurt him again, or what if I hurt Charlie? Teddy, I'm a horrible person!"

"Please. PJ, you're a great big brother. And Gabe is hardly a baby. It was an accident, and that's all it was."

"If I were Gabe, I'd never forgive me. Teddy, what if he never forgives me?"

Teddy couldn't answer.


	4. Chapter 4

Sunday morning dawned a little too early in the Duncan house for those who had stirred every few hours to awaken-and annoy-the youngest son. At one point, Amy had helped him change into pajamas and Bob had helped him navigate the stairs to his own bed. For the most part, he had managed to sleep soundly between interruptions.

PJ shared a bedroom with him. Although he had had plenty of arguments against sharing a room with the kid over the years, he was actually pretty grateful on this occasion. It was nice to know that he was close enough to help keep watch. He had dozed fitfully through the night, alert for every little noise, and had finally relaxed into a deep sleep shortly before sunrise.

So, of course, he was forced to wake up soon thereafter.

"PJ? PJ, are you awake? "

"What's wrong?" PJ sat straight up, blinking the sleep out of his eyes. "Do you need Mom or Dad?".

Gabe was sitting up in bed. He looked embarrassed. "I… um… Mom said to wake you up if I needed to go anywhere," he stammered. ""I'm sorry."

"That's okay. Where do you need to go?"

"Bathroom?"

"Why? Do you need to puke? Let me get Mom."

"PJ. It"s morning. I have to pee."

"Oh." A thought occurred to PJ, and his faced flushed as red as his brother's. "You don't—ah—need help after you get there, do you?" he asked.

"Never mind! I shouldn't have woken you up. Go back to sleep, I'll go by myself."

"Shut up," PJ told him. He helped his brother to his feet and watched him closely. "Do you feel dizzy?"

"Do you?" Gabe retorted.

"Somebody feels better," PJ said with a grin. He followed Gabe down the hallway, poised to catch him if he fell. But despite an unsteady start, the eleven-year old seemed fairly sure of his steps. He shut the door in PJ's face and emerged a few minutes later.

"Guess I didn't need to wake you up," he said, looking embarrassed again. "But Mom said—"

"Better safe than sorry."

PJ watched him crawl back into bed and then settled into his own. "Wake me up if you need me again, okay?" he murmured, already drifting off.

"I'm sorry about the ice cream truck," Gabe said sleepily.

"Huh?"

"The ice cream truck. I heard the music and turned my head to see where it was. That's why I didn't see the ball. I'm sorry."

"Oh. So you're not mad at me for knocking you on your butt?"

Gabe yawned. "You didn't do it on purpose. And it was my own fault for being stupid."

PJ smiled.

In the hallway, their mother smiled too and stepped away from the door. No need to check on Gabe this time, she realized. Or on PJ for that matter. As a nurse and as a mother, she knew that everything was going to be all right.

She tiptoed back to her own room and slipped back under the covers. "Everybody okay?" Bob whispered.

"Fine," Amy assured him. She snuggled against his warmth. "We've probably got about an hour before Charlie wakes up, and I'm sure the rest of the kids will sleep late today."

"An hour, huh?" Bob wrapped his arms around her and pulled her close. "I've got a few ideas on how to spend the time."

"Really? Do any of those ideas involve sleep?"

"Eventually."

"I see. Are you trying to seduce me, Mr. Duncan? Because if you are, it's working."

"Glad to hear it, Mrs. Duncan. Glad to hear it."


End file.
